


I Am The Wolf Princess

by Meshakhad



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 09:36:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7752469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meshakhad/pseuds/Meshakhad





	I Am The Wolf Princess

**Chapter 1: OW MY HEAD**

I had a dream.

In the dream, I was Arya Stark. I wandered around Winterfell. I did as little embroidery work as possible. I played with Bran. I annoyed Sansa.

When I awoke, I awoke with a smile. The dream was a fun dream, after all. Hardly atypical for a hardcore ASOIAF fanboy as myself, especially when Arya was one of my favorite characters. I could remember so many details of being Arya, the way you can remember the details of a dream in the first moments of waking.

My smile vanished when I opened my eyes, and realized that I was not in my apartment. I was not lying under a quilt and electric blanket, but furs. The room was far cooler than I'd expected for August. And when I saw my body, I choked. My body was not that of a twenty-seven-year-old man, but a nine year-old-girl. My bedclothes were utterly different.

I also realized that the memories of my dream were not fading. The room was familiar. It was Arya's room in Winterfell.

Realization hit me.

I was Arya Stark.

And realization was followed by a class-A migraine. Just what I needed.

 

A few minutes later, Septa Mordane entered my room. "Arya, it is time to get up!" Her tone was one of practiced exasperation.

"Maester... Luwin..." I moaned, burying my head under the furs. They did a good job of blocking out the light. "Head... hurts..."

I was exaggerating only slightly. I could have focused enough to form cogent words, but I didn't want to. If there was any headache remedy available, I wanted it NOW. I'd take trepanning if it was available. My head felt like it was going to burst open from pressure.

Septa Mordane pulled away my blankets, and I cried out in genuine pain, balling my fists into my eyes to keep out the cursed light. That did the trick. The Septa retreated, and Maester Luwin arrived a few minutes later, with Mother (Lady Catelyn Tully) in tow.

"What is the problem, milady?" Luwin asked.

I turned to face them while still covering my eyes, in an attempt to show that I was awake and alert. "My head... it feels like it will explode," I whispered. "The light makes it worse."

"Oh, my sweet child..." my mother crooned, sitting by my bed.

Maester Luwin pressed a hand to my forehead. "No fever," he said after a moment. "I have seen this sickness before. It is called a 'migraine'. One of my fellow students at the Citadel suffered from them. It is agonizing, but there should be no permanent harm. Gods willing, she will be fine tomorrow, possibly even later today."

"What can you do for her?" Mother asked, her voice full of concern.

"Keep the room dark. Some milk of the poppy may dull the pain. She should try to eat something easy, like stew. With your leave, milady, I will go retrieve what I need."

"Thank you, Maester Luwin," my mother replied. I heard him leave, and she wrapped her arms around me.

 

Mother left after some time. Nearly everyone visited me. Sansa brought Rickon, who tried to pull the blanket off my face. Jon came after them, right when I threw up the stew. I did so with relief - generally, vomiting usually signaled the beginning of the end. Jon was kind enough to get me another bowl of stew.

As the pain went away, I began to think. I was able to access Arya's memories, it seemed. The direwolves had not been found yet, so we were probably right around the beginning of _A Game of Thrones_. Everyone bore some resemblance to their actors from the show, but this was definitely book canon.

I needed a plan. Barring a suicide attack on Joffrey, I thought my best strategy would be to remain in the North. This would be the best way for me to introduce any modern technology or methods. Obviously, my resources as a young girl were rather limited.

When Robb came by, I had an idea. Not for the future, but for now.

"How are you, Arya?" he asked. The accent was nearly spot-on to Richard Madden's, only I also shared it.

"A little better," I replied. "The second bowl seems to be staying down." I managed a weak laugh, which my elder brother shared.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" he inquired.

"Actually, there is." I looked at Robb, raising myself up by a bit. "Could you read to me?"

Robb's eyes widened, and then he smiled. "Of course, Arya. What would you like me to read?"

"A history book," I replied. "Any history book. You pick it."

"I'll go to the library," Robb said with a smile. Several minutes later, he returned with a book on the Stark wars with the Boltons. And as he read, I relaxed. I seemed to have Arya's emotional attachments, and having my brother read to me helped a lot. Hearing about my ancestors kicking Bolton ass helped too.

But there was another motive at work. I knew Arya had been closest to Jon, but Jon was going to join the Night's Watch. I didn't think I could stop him, and I was unsure if I should even try. If Jon didn't go to the Night's Watch, a lot of people could die. So the best approach would be to get closer to Robb. Maybe he would listen to my advice.

Maybe I could save him.


End file.
